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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597803">wake me up when september ends</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KodzuCatt/pseuds/KodzuCatt'>KodzuCatt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Light Angst, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Serious Injuries, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:29:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KodzuCatt/pseuds/KodzuCatt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"C’mon, kitten. It will only be 3 months.”</p>
  <p>Kuroo had said those words with a relaxed, funny smile, the kind he used to give his boyfriend when he was overwhelmed. And this time it wasn't much different from usual, beyond the fact that his concern was completely justified.</p>
  <p>"It's not a business trip, Kuro. <i>It's a war.</i>" </p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>wake me up when september ends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"C’mon, kitten. It will only be 3 months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo had said those words with a relaxed, funny smile, the kind he used to give his boyfriend when he was overwhelmed. And this time it wasn't much different from usual, </span>
  <span>beyond the fact that his concern was completely justified</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not a business trip, Kuro. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's a war.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were in the kitchen of the small apartment they shared, and on one of the many countertops — the one next to the dishwasher — was an open letter, with the government seal on both the envelope and the document it contained. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Kuroo Tetsurō, you have been selected for military service"</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something so simple had been enough to generate, perhaps, one of the biggest fights between Kuroo and Kenma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>It's unlikely they'll send me to the frontline</span>
  <span>, I don’t have any training," Kuroo replied, shrugging. Deep down, those words were more for himself, since the very idea of going in the first line of fire was frightening. He'd seen enough war movies and documentaries to know what happened to cannon fodder. “I'm sure I'll end up guarding a base or something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What if you don’t?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kenma murmured, his mouth twisted into a grimace. </span>
  <span>No matter how mad he looked</span>
  <span>, a mixture of pain and worry danced in his golden eyes, which was enough to squeeze Kuroo's heart. Something he hated more than arguing with Kenma was making him feel bad. “What if you have to go to the frontline? You cannot control what will happen in the future.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't, but it's no use splitting my head thinking about that," Kuroo replied, shrugging. Actually, he thought about it quite a bit, just enough to make his stomach turn, but mentioning it wouldn't fix anything. Kuroo smiled again, trying to provide calm to his boyfriend, he was already causing too much trouble. “Have a little confidence, luck has always been on my side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's stupid to depend on luck."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not like I can do anything else either, is it?" Kenma looked down, and Kuroo felt his heart sinking. Seeing him like this was like going back to adolescence, when they had just started dating and Kenma still wasn't as self-confident he was now.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Everything for a stupid letter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Oi, oi, I was just kidding—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you check if you can get this shit off you?” Kenma murmured, his voice stern. He raised his face again, fixing those intense golden eyes on Kuroo, who only managed to shake his head. “There must be some way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Service became compulsory since the war broke out," Kuroo explained in an almost inaudible whisper. He could see Kenma's face getting tense, enough to make his insides twist. He hated not having a better answer, any idea that would save them from that shit, no matter how silly it were. “And my physical exams were excellent, so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you will go,” Kenma concluded, bitterness tinging his voice. His lips trembled, and Kuroo reacted: he closed the distance between them, wrapping Kenma in a warm hug, caressing his back while Kenma hid his face in Kuroo’s chest. “I don’t want you to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It'll only be three months, kitten," Kuroo murmured, using that old nickname that he had given his boyfriend so many years ago to annoy him, and that now felt so familiar. Kuroo kissed the top of Kenma’s head, resting his cheek on Kenma’s straight hair. “Everything will be fine, I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The warm colors of dawn seeped through the apartment's windows, bathing the figures of the couple with pink and orange, being the last glimpses of tranquility before darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Summer was starting when the doomed date arrived, and Kuroo had to say goodbye to Kenma at the train station, with a heavy bag on his shoulder and his heart stuck in the middle of his throat. He didn't cry when they exchanged one last kiss or when he saw Kenma’s figure through the windows, walking away as the train departed. What was the use of crying? They would meet again at the end of September, and surely all that stupidity of the war would end, and they could return to the routine, living in the same apartment as always and sharing moments as if nothing had happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything will be fine, I promise.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His own words echoed in his head as Kuroo went through the register, then got on a bus that would take him to the military base. The first thing he lost was his hair, </span>
  <span>which was almost flush cut by a machine</span>
  <span> that looked like something out of the last century.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you lost that horrible hairstyle?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time he called Kenma they talked about it, thus taking up the weekly call they were allowed on base. They made them train day and night, preparing them as quickly as possible for the battlefield, so there were few occasions where he could talk to Kenma. There was no open Wi-Fi and no signal, so Kuroo had to use a landline phone that also looked like something out of the last century. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>I bet you can see better without the bangs</span>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Believe it or not, you get used to it," Kuroo replied, with a smile on his lips. His back was leaning against the wall of the phone booth, feeling his supervisor's eyes on him. Five minutes a week, that was all the time they allowed, it was never enough. “How are your streams going? Are we already rich?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>We? </span>
  </em>
  <span>So are we talking in plural now," Kenma murmured, and Kuroo couldn't help but laugh. “And streams are going well, within what is possible. People are worried about the war, I guess I help them distract themselves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who wouldn't be distracted by a pretty face as yours?” Kuroo laughed again when he heard Kenma growl, this time so loud that a couple of people walking down the hall turned to see him with some disapproval. At this, Kuroo cleared his throat, lowering the volume of his voice. “Have you talked to Akaashi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, he's... worried." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The government hadn't hesitated in selecting new recruits, including the well-known Bokuto Kōtarō, volleyball star and noisy husband of Akaashi Keiji. Their relationship was as long as time itself, so seeing them separated by war was pretty tragic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They say things are getting pretty ugly in the Middle East.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It would be nice if they had some good news from time to time." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuro.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma called his name in a serious tone, and Kuroo couldn't help but tense. Normally his boyfriend used that tone to scold him, so he was used to being on the alert every time he heard it, although now it didn't make much sense. They were hours apart, with different routines and almost opposite lives, scolding would have no effect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I talked with my bosses and... they can offer you a high position, and get you out of there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh." Kuroo lost his smile, as well as his speech. Of all the possible scenarios, this was one that he could have never imagined. “For real?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, they have contacts in the military, they can make some calls and—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?” Kuroo replied, perhaps sharper than he expected. He pressed the phone until it creaked, feeling his palms begin to sweat. “That’s... That's influence peddling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, but—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's illegal, Kenma," Kuroo interrupted, his tone serious. He was not the most honorable person in the world, but the mere idea of the person he loved involved in something so dangerous was enough to give him goosebumps. “Jesus, you can end up in jail for that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, but it's for a good cause," Kenma insisted. He sounded annoyed, although Kuroo could tell without seeing him that he wasn't. He was worried, probably biting the inside of his cheek to the point of making it bleed. “Jeez, it's not like they really need you there, y’know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It is still illegal, as well as unfair," Kuroo murmured, closing his eyes. He put a hand to his face, rubbing his eyelids and trying to dissipate the tension. “If I go back, how could I even look Akaashi in the eye? Or anyone who asks about the issue of military service.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really care about what people think of you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I care about what people think of my boyfriend and what they might do to him for trying to help me," Kuroo replied sincerely. He opened his eyes again, fixing them on the roof of the cabin, searching for shapes in the chipped off paint. He sighed, that place definitely looked out of the last century. “... I can't ask you to do something like that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They offered me a stay in the United States, we can go and take refuge there," Kenma continued, ignoring Kuroo's words. “Maybe if I pulled a few strings, I could get citizenship faster and—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kenma, stop," Kuroo cut him off, already tired of the conversation. With each passing instant, the pain in his chest only grew, to the point where even breathing became an agony. “I'm not going to stoop to that, not when there are others who don't even have a chance to choose. You know that I can’t do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I know," Kenma murmured, defeated. There was a small moment of silence, where they both only heard each other's breathing through the line, until Kenma spoke again. “I love you, you’re the man of my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's too much love all of a sudden, kitten! </span>
  <span>You want to give me a heart attack?</span>
  <span>,” Kuroo teased, a long smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Kenma didn't reply, but he could imagine him frowning and wrinkling his nose. “C’mon, don't be mad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you dare die out there, Kuroo Tetsurō," Kenma exclaimed, in a tone so serious that he could have been passing a death sentence. “I swear I'll go kick your ass, even if I have to go down to hell to do so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, kitten.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that point, the weekly 5-minutes were up, and the supervisor banged on the booth door. Kuroo clicked his tongue, saying his goodbyes quickly and promising to call the next week without fail, even if it meant cleaning the bathroom floor with his toothbrush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Kuroo went out, he couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh, feeling that strange pressure he had felt since the day he arrived at the base crushing his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>June had never felt so long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, will you ask him to marry you when we go back?" Bokuto asked, with one of his typical smiles, the kind that seemed about to split his face in two. “Man, congrats!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo nodded, matching his best friend's smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>June had given way to August, and August to September. With the training of the new recruits completed, they were sent to their respective jobs and, as Kuroo originally predicted, he was left on guard at one of the many bases the army had in the Middle East. Given his excellent physical condition and agile reflexes, Kuroo ended up guarding the wall that surrounded the place, something much more boring than one would expect in a war, although it did not bother him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was lucky that Bokuto was sent to the same base as him to serve as a guard, so they spent the long nights talking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess it's about time," Kuroo said, resting his arms on the rail of the wall. Almost everything was made of light material, wood and metal, reminding him a bit of the toys that he saw as a child in stores. Beside him, Bokuto followed suit, letting the rifle dangle from the strap around his shoulder. “After all, we've been dating since school.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not like you two need something like that either, y’know?" Bokuto muttered, resting his chin on his forearms. Kuroo heard him sigh. “Married or not... You and Kenma are made for each other, like soulmates.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really believe it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure! I wouldn't say it if I didn’t mean it,” Bokuto continued, tilting his head to his cheek, looking at Kuroo with his huge yellow eyes. “It's weird to imagine Kenma without you, or you without Kenma.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't know you were so sappy." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not," Bokuto replied, frowning. Kuroo chuckled, his best friend was too easy to tease. “I'm just saying the obvious.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night sky shone above their heads and the crickets sang, filling the atmosphere with their sweet melodies. Kuroo looked up at the sky, thinking that Kenma might be looking at the same stars from the apartment's huge window, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a cup of hot chocolate, tired after a long day of work. If he had been there he would have hugged Kenma from behind, muttering some nonsense just to make him laugh a little, filling his neck with kisses to make him go to bed, even if it was just to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo sighed, closing his eyes to keep that image for a few more seconds. September couldn't be that long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one morning at the end of the month that war came to them, in the form of explosions and screams. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo woke up suddenly in his bed when the first bomb fell, and his first reaction was to look for Bokuto, who was sleeping in the next room. Soldiers ran from side to side carrying weapons, some shouting orders into the air and others praying loudly; the smell of gunpowder and death were suffocating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Kuroo found Bokuto, he was standing in the middle of the hall, looking confused just like Kuroo a couple of minutes ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto, we have to get out of here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo didn't recognize his own voice when he opened his mouth, but he didn't care. Grabbing his best friend by the arm, he pulled him out of the building, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. The explosions were only increasing, and the sound of the gunshots was getting closer. Since most of the base was underground, they had to climb several stairs to reach the outside, where the smell of sweat mixed with gunpowder and blood hit their noses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun was shining above their heads, planes as black as crows soared through the sky, spitting showers of bullets and opening their bellies to drop bombs. Clouds of earth rose before each explosion, and the cries of agony of those soldiers who were reached by their impact carried the atmosphere like an apocalyptic symphony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that moment, Kuroo </span>
  <span>threw away</span>
  <span> the little to no patriotism he still had left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Bokuto, we have to—!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A grenade fell near them, and the world deafened. A cloud of earth rose up, and Kuroo could feel the grains of sand scrape his throat as he tried to keep breathing. A high-pitched beeping echoed in his ears, his body thrown to the side by the shock wave from the blast, a few meters from where it had been before. Everything hurt, but at least he was still in one piece. His head was spinning, and the taste of blood danced on his tongue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the cloud of dust came down, Kuroo could see his best friend's bicolor hair stained with blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo stood up, ignoring the screaming of his muscles and the burning in his nose and throat. Bullets whistled past his head, but that didn't stop him from running to aid his friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto was still, with his back against the remains of a wall, his uniform covered in dirt and some blood stains near his head. For a moment, Kuroo feared that the idiot had split his skull during the impact, but when he got closer he could see where the blood was coming from. Kuroo felt his stomach churn, and had to suppress a gag. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo! What's going on?!” Bokuto yelled as soon as his eyes met Kuroo's. Two thick streams of blood ran down his cheeks, trickling under his chin and onto the sand. “Did a bomb drop?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo felt like his insides had been ripped out, and he could only grab Bokuto by one arm and force him to his feet, pulling him to move. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo! What's going on?! I can’t hear anything!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo had to bite the inside of his cheek not to reply, feeling his heart being squeezed by an invisible claw. Using the cloud of dust to his advantage, Kuroo walked among the dismembered bodies of his former teammates, taking cover in the wreckage to avoid the bullets. The earth trembled under his feet and tears blurred his vision, he no longer knew if it was because of the dust that scratched his eyes or something else. He felt a bullet bite into his right arm, which was enough to make him groan and lower his guard for a few seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo, at your feet!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Kuroo looked down and saw the hand grenade roll towards his feet, he knew it was too late, so he only managed to push Bokuto away and close his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Kuroo stopped feeling the ground under his feet and the warm breeze caressed his cheeks, and the sensation of floating was enough to making him open his eyes. Before him, the firmament stretched out, celestial, brilliant, without any cloud or bird to interrupt it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the same sky that had once been over that dirt court near the bridge, when he and Kenma were just children ready to discover the world. Jumping, feeling the sun against his face, flying for a few moments to see the other side of the net and finish off, savoring the sound his hand made when he hit the ball. Old memories that made Kuroo's heart vibrate, as his mind soared, away from war, death and spilled blood, back to where he belonged, that person who considered his home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>C’mon, kitten. It will only be 3 months. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His own words echoed inside his head, as his body fell to the ground. He heard the creaking of his bones— the snap of his ribs when splitting, but the pain never came. Blood flooded his mouth, staining his lips as he parted them to catch a breath of air, feeling his lungs burn. The sky continued to spread before his eyes, infinite, with the clouds raised by the bombs dissolving in their purity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo could feel Kenma's arms wrap around him in a warm hug again, just like that day before boarding the train. The scent of his shampoo danced on Kuroo's nose, as the lines of the world blurred, melting into one another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't you dare die out there, Kuroo Tetsurō.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The screams surrounding him were distant, and the silhouettes were mere shades of color. Kenma's voice sounded clear, as if he was at his side whispering the words in his ear, making Kuroo forget where he was for a moment. He thought he felt someone grab him by the armpits, lifting him up between curses and trembling, but little to nothing mattered to him. Before Kuroo was Kenma's face, his beloved Kenma with his little wrinkled nose and frown, like every time he scolded him for saying some cheesy nonsense or being too affectionate in public. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I swear I'll go kick your ass, even if I have to go down to hell to do so</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Little by little, the sounds surrounding him grew stronger, and Kuroo managed to focus his eyes. He was being dragged away, and his body was leaving a trail of blood that came from his legs... Or, well, what was left of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo blinked a few times, staring at the spot where his right leg used to be, now just a pile of burned flesh, remnants of his pants and broken bones, all of which stuck out like white masts. It was the kind of visions that would make even the strongest person faint, although he didn't really feel any pain, just a dizziness that seemed to intensify as the trail of blood grew before his eyes. Kuroo heard Bokuto's voice behind him —he was the one who was dragging him, how did he not recognize him before?— although in his ears the screams were simple disconnected murmurs. Kuroo wanted to throw up, but had forgotten to eat breakfast before going to bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Kenma will really be mad at me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kuroo thought, curling his lips in a sad smile. Fatigue was getting the best of him, and his eyelids grew heavier as the stage was engulfed in darkness. The tips of his fingers tingled, and he could feel hot liquid run down his neck. He wouldn't have been surprised to see his brain fall to his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on, Kuroo, help is coming!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto's voice was far away, and the smell of blood seemed to permeate everything. Kuroo closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away, returning to that small apartment he shared with the love of his life, to those nights where they slept hugged, away from the rest of the world, lost between kisses and cuddles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry, kitten</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, feeling his body being pulled into the void as the blades of a helicopter were heard in the distance. More bullets, more explosions; the smell of gunpowder and blood was suffocating, but nothing mattered anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just wanted to wake up when September ends. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the first part of a two-part series that i wanna write (the second maybe will be published in December- January, cause college is trying to kill me haha)... and i hope you like it. I know is kinda short for my standards (lol) but i'm satisfied with it &lt;3&lt;3</p>
<p>Special thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/RainyQuora">Nikki</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/Fur_Florian">Florian</a> for the beta reading!!!</p>
<p>Please stay tuned for the second part!!! And here's my <a href="https://twitter.com/BlastyCatt?s=09">Twitter</a>. I have cc if you wanna drop some theories, comments, questions... it's always open. Thanks for all the support.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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